The girl with the tooth gap looked in the mirror and thought: it looks like you've been mugged.

The girl with the tooth gap sought out other people with a gap. In a bar she met a woman with a thigh gap. It looks like you're starving, Tooth Gap said. I am. For beauty, Thigh Gap said. Your own or that of others? What's the difference?

The girl with the tooth gap sought out another person with a gap. At a train station she met a traveler with a platform gap. How's the leaping today, Tooth Gap said. Waiting to fall flat om my face and enjoy it, Platform Gap said. Why would you do that? I need the hurt to feel alive.

The girl with the tooth gap sought out the next one with a gap. At the post office she met a guy with a pension gap. Making ends meet? Tooth Gap said. Yeah, my life's end and that of my budget are closing in, Pension Gap said. Which one do you fear the most? My budget's.

Tooth Gap decided: this must be my Gap Year. I'm beginning to like my mugshot.

The Powerlesser stood in front of his door. Inside or outside, that was the answer. Right, outside he went. He met a value guarding man. The Powerlesser asked him: what can I do outside? Exhibit your virtue, Mr Value Guard said. And what if nobody comes to see it? You double the admission price. I wouldn't pay that price myself.

The Powerlesser stood in front of his door. Inside or outside, that was the answer. Right, inside he went. In his kitchen a quick goldy little girl waited for him. The Powerlesser asked her: what can I do in my kitchen? Pour me a cold soda or make me a warm mud bath, Miss Quick Gold said. How do I choose? Well, just do something different. Like putting some paint and paper in front of you? Can do. And you paint your face for war.

The Powerlesser stood in front of his door. Inside or outside, that was the answer. Right, he stood on the threshold. An open directed young boy came to his door. The Powerlesser asked him: what can I do on this threshold? Just stand there and listen to my story, Mr Open Direction said. I'm standing and I'm listening. Oh well, I haven't got one today. Alright, in the meantime I'll listen to my feet.

The Turkish Bath Therapist had an appointment with a patient. He entered the steam bath of Spa Scanty. Inside an old man waited for his fifteen minutes of blame. How was your day, the Turkish Bath Therapist said. My friend's an ache in the head. Don't let him in there. You got an other heated room to receive him in? No sweat.

The Turkish Bath Therapist had an appointment with a second patient. He entered the steam bath of Spa Spacy. Inside a young woman waited for her fifteen minutes of shame. How was your day, the Turkish Bath Therapist said. My friend's all over me. Dip yourself in warm oil and slither out. What kind of oil? Try one that smells the best. No sweat.

The Turkish Bath Therapist had an appointment with a last patient. He entered the steam bath of Spa Sprawly. Inside a young girl waited for her fifteen minutes of frame. How was your day, the Turkish Bath Therapist said. My friend's bullying me to death. Ask her if she's enjoying it. I go all red in the face. So you're asking for the bull to charge. Let her charge and step aside. The finishing ****** will come from elsewhere. No sweat.

This Hot Turkey Method sure is a sweat, the Turkish Bath Therapist thought. Got to hurry now, my FreezeFysician is waiting

Meet the man who heard faces. What? He heard a voice and saw a face. Why don't you say so?

The man who heard faces picked up his phone. At the other end a thin meticulous voice suggested an appointment. Something to do with personal development. Check: day, hour, place. He saw a sharp, dry face with glasses.  On the day, hour and at the place he met a creased, crooked face on top of a stocky guy. Well, he thought,  personal development starts here.

The man who heard faces turned on the radio. A soft, husky voice invited him to listen to an interview. He listened and didn't hear a thing. He saw a worn, battling face with a sleepy eye. Next day he came across the face in the papers. He saw a bland closed face with an earthy eye. Well, he thought, better listen and hear next time.

The man who heard faces sat on a train. Behind him a tweety, bubbling voice told someone to look at an airplane. He saw an angelic, creamy face with a sparkling eye. He turned around. He saw a dark, plotting face with a piercing eye. Just then a predator bird swooped down and picked up a mouse from the field.

Mister Two Point Two Miller considered himself always in need of free cash. He put his money where his heart was. Could he call himself wealthy? Well, maybe medium prosperous, medium-lite rich or ultra-lite tycoonish. So, the world was his treasure island.

Mister Two Point Two Miller washed ashore and looked around. Wait, there's another guy on his turf. What you looking for, the other guy said. How about anything over two point two mil? Ah, why that number? Random. Don't you dig that way. No, when I stumble over it, I'll find. Yeah, you'll stumble alright.

Mister Two Point Two Miller woke up on the beach and … eh, no looking around. He had a heartache. Two guys were digging a hole and dropped something in it. They sneaked away. Let's see what's in there. Hashtag. It's x point x mil! The two guys visited him in his beach hut. When they left, he was unconscious for two point two hours.

Mister Two Point Two Miller couldn't sleep. His head was a jungle, his mouth a desert. But his heart was his money. He picked up a torch and went for a prowl. An unlucky moon rolled around heaven all night. Jeez, you scare me, a voice said. I'm not looking for you. Well, you sure found me, the avatar said. Are you real? Hear who's asking. Uh, yeah, you got a point. Thnx for the point, but I gotta go. Seems you haven't found the two point two yet. How do you know I'm looking? Tss, we virtual things have a line on each other.

Right, I'm sticking with you. Mister you're welcome. We two got the point, let's go find the other two.

It's been a long hard search, but you know what? Humpty Dumpty turns out to have a brother. In the end he just popped up between the lives of so many other unknown kin.

This guy, Humpty Dumpster, seems to try what nobody, king's horses nor king's men, is really successful at. He goes around picking up pieces.

Humpty Dumpster walks and stalks the big city. Woman comes out her door. Dumps an old table lamp without a shade. Humpty Dumpster picks it up. What you gonna do with that? Go pick up the missing piece. And yo! Next corner, a milky glass shade. How's that for a short circuit, he thinks. Now wait for a real one.

Humpty Dumpster walks and stalks a provincial town. Hey, look. Sweet little frying pan lid. Heavy glass, easy handle. Humpty Dumpster picks it up. So, young knight, where's your sword, an old guy says. Eh, different game. See if it fits my frying pan. And yo! It does. Only just. Oh well, my floor anxiously waits for the shattering.

Humpty Dumpster walks and stalks his own street. Pinpointed eye. Like this thing asks to be seen. Deep wooden frame, ceramic head with fish on top, broken off tail sits with it. Humpty Dumpster picks it up. Mister, it's a throwaway, it's *****, you get sick, a young girl says. Maybe I'll be sick, but this thing is gonna be better. Glue the tail back on, surround it with animal figurines. Bad art is easy as a good ****.

Humpty Dumpty calls his brother. What's I'm hearing? You picking up pieces? Try picking up mine. Yeah, can do. But you gonna look older and not gonna be the old you. Who cares, Egghead.

The Conspiracy Therapist opened his door. Two men led a blindfolded girl into the room. Sit down. Point is, just imagine two men led you into the room. They did. No, just imagine they did. Right, I will. Now, what do you feel? It's no crime anymore. Exactly. And what's left? Two men led me blindfolded into the room. And that's helplessly frightening.

The Conspiracy Therapist opened his door. Two male nurses wheeled a poisoned old man into the room. Sit up. Point is, just imagine two male nurses wheeled you into the room. They did. No, just imagine they did. Right, I will. Now, what do you feel? It's no mime anymore. Exactly. And what's left? Two male nurses wheeled me into the room. And that's helplessly sickening.

The Conspiracy Therapist opened his door. Two adolescents dragged a bruised boy into the room. Sit back. Point is, just imagine two adolescents dragged you into the room. They did. No, just imagine they did. Right, I will. Now, what do you feel?
It's no grime anymore. Exactly. And what's left? Two adolescents dragged me into the room. And that's helplessly hurting.

The Conspiracy Therapist closed his waiting room. He detected a tiny camera and a tapping device. Somebody's got to be behind this, he thought.